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by wooster182
Summary: This is a wish fic for 3.05's Betty Suarez Land. What happens when Gio comes home? Follows the promo we saw Thursday, so there are slight spoilers. BxG.
1. Chapter 1

This fic is dedicated to Angel, to whom I lose bets and then owe fics and vids. So here it is, Angel. I hope you like it.

………………………….

Chapter 1

"Is Wili still mothering you?" Betty asked through her cell phone as she walked down the halls of MODE.

"Oh, Betty, you have no idea," Christina said, mumbling the words while she ate. "She actually brought cupcakes this morning. They are delicious!"

Laughing, she said, "You have to get well as soon as possible. You know I can't work here without you!"

"The doctor says I'm getting better every day. I feel a lot—"

"Oh my gosh!"

"What is it, Betty?" she cried.

"Gio's back!" She clicked off her phone and ran towards Gio. "Bongiorno!" She hugged him tightly.

The muscles in his back and shoulders tightened until she let him go. Giving her a brief glance, he tersely said, "Hey," before hunkering down over his cart and walking swiftly away from her towards the hallway.

Frowning, she chased after him. "Gio!" she shouted. "Gio, what's wrong?"

He stopped and sighed. Closing his eyes, he tried breathing in and out. "I don't want to talk about it."

She smiled. "But you went to Rome! You must have seen amazing things."

He nodded. "Oh, I did. But I didn't enjoy one damn thing about it."

"Why?" she asked, her brow furrowing.

His eyes trained on hers in what looked almost like a crazy haze. "You dumped me right before I got on the plane. I moped around Rome for weeks."

Her mouth dropped open. "Gio…Gio, I'm so sorry."

He waved her words away with his hand. "Food had no taste. I went all the way to Italy to find my flavor and everything tasted like cardboard. Pizza. Bread. Cheese. Pasta. All like cardboard."

"Gio, maybe you should have waited before you went to Rome."

Shaking his head, he said, "I had already bought the tickets, remember? You had told me that you definitely wanted to go, so I bought them. It was part of the plan. I thought I'd get over you in Rome."

Her throat clenched at his words. She hadn't realized how much she had wanted to hear those words, how much she liked the thought. "You're not over me?"

He raised his eyebrows. "Over you? I hate you."

All of the breath was taken from her. Her face scrunched. "Excuse me?"

"I didn't find my flavor. I completely lost it. I've been home for three weeks and I haven't been able to make one damn decent sandwich. I've had complaints. I'm losing business. I hate you."

"Gio, what can I do to help?" she asked, her shoulders slumped.

He looked at her coldly as he said, "You can let me forget I ever knew you."

She watched him walk away from her, pushing his cart down the hall. She felt terrible. And guilty. Her heart squeezed tightly. She didn't want him to forget her. She didn't want to forget about him. As tears stung at her eyes, she realized that she had underestimated her feelings for him.

She would fix this. She needed to fix this.

TBC


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

"He was so rude to me," Betty whined to her boss, not realizing that she was echoing her words from months long passed.

Daniel took a drink of his coffee, wishing that it was laced with alcohol. "You broke his heart, Betty. That's understandable."

"But he hates me!" she said, her voice rising. "When I just realized—" _how much I missed him_, was what she wanted to say, but she let her words trail.

"Realized what?" he said, shaking his head.

She threw her hands up, saying, "That he's too good of a friend to lose that easily."

"Then do something about it," he said, shrugging.

She nodded her head, determined. "That's exactly what I'll do," she said, then left his office and headed home. She had gotten an intern to make a sandwich order for her and she needed to be back in her apartment to receive the delivery in time. When she heard a knock at the door, she leaped towards it and smiled brightly, ignoring Gio's confused and angered countenance.

"What the hell is this?" he said, reluctantly entering the apartment in order to set down the huge order. "Have you checked your calendar lately? I'm pretty sure _never _is a lot longer than three hours."

Scoffing, she said, "You couldn't have actually meant that you _never _wanted to see me again. Gio, you are one for hyperboles."

He squinted and stepped closer towards the door, saying, "No, I'm pretty sure I did. I'm not the one that lives in a fantasy land."

"What is that supposed to mean?" she said, her jaw dropping incredulously.

He rolled his eyes. "C'mon, everything about your life is one big story. Your boyfriends, your job," he said, looking around the room, "this apartment. In Manhattan? Really?"

She bristled at his words. "There's no reason for you to be mean!"

"There's no reason for me to be here!" he shouted back, his arms waving out in front of him. He made a move to step around her and she blocked the door. "Please let me leave, Betty."

"No," she said more quietly now, shaking her head. "I can't let it end this way."

His voice softened, too, and his eyes, looking into hers, were darker and looked saddened. "What do you want from me, Betty?"

Pleading, she moved just slightly closer. "Tell me how to fix this."

He put his head down and shook it. "You can't, B. I just have to get over it."

Her heart clenched at hearing him call her _B. _Her hand squeezing tightly around the door knob, she asked, "What if I had been wrong?"

"What?" he asked, his head whipping up to look at her.

Gulping hard, she said, "When you left me this morning, I felt like there was a hole in my chest."

"What are you saying?"

"When you walked away from me, I think I finally realized how you felt when I walked away from you at the baseball game." Stepping so close to him that she could feel his breath on her neck, she asked again, "What if I was wrong?"

Pointing at her, he said, "Don't do that. Don't you dare give me signals again if you don't mean it."

Her voice strained. "I do mean it."

His eyes bore into hers. "No, you don't know how it felt. When you walked away from me, I was in love with you. Don't tell me that it's the same."

She sighed, looking away. "I can't tell you that I'm in love with you—that's true. But I'm telling you that I know I can be."

A lump knotted in his throat as he choked, "Betty, I can't do this again."

Putting her hand on his upper arm, she said, "I'm so sorry for the way I treated you, Gio. I truly am, but I don't want to hurt you again. And I can't lose you again."

"Lose me?" he said, his voice rising again. "You left me!"

"And I was wrong!" She pressed her fingers into his arm gently. "Forgive me, _please._"

"Why?" he asked, almost as pleadingly as she had been. "What do you want from me?"

A tear threatened to escape down her cheek. "I want us to have the chance that I didn't give us before."

"I thought you didn't have feelings for me," he said, his jaw tightening.

"I was wrong. I was afraid and I pushed you away. I don't want to do that again."

He took a step back. "I don't have feelings for you anymore."

She stepped closer. "Yes, you do. You wouldn't be so angry with me if you didn't."

"No."

Soft strands of hair fell around her face as she looked up at him. "You taught me how to be myself again, Gio. You taught me so many things. I want you in my life." Her voice became softer but there was force behind it when she said, "I want _you_."

As he had done before, his hands reached for the sides of her head and he pulled her close, his lips falling hard yet tenderly against hers. She clung to his shoulders as she tried to take in every bit of him, the texture of his shirt and skin, the smell of his cologne, the taste of his lips. She hadn't realized how much she had missed his taste, the way he kissed her. This time, she was the one to slip her tongue into his mouth. He groaned with surprise and readily met her with his own.

Backing her against the door, he turned his head to deepen the kiss, sliding his hands down to her waist. He held her tightly as their bodies formed together. She ran her fingers through his growing hair. She liked it. She liked him. She liked every damn thing about him. "Gio," she breathed against his neck, "please don't ever go away again."

His eyes rolled back in his head as her tongue played with a spot just behind his earlobe. "You neither," he growled. "Not without me."

Smiling, he took her hand and led her to the couch. Something caught his eye and with a raised brow, he said, "Your bathtub is in the living room."

She shrugged. "Not so much a fantasy apartment after all."

Pulling her down by the waist to sit with him, he asked, "Is this a fantasy?"

Running her hands down his chest, she smiled and looked at him warmly and honestly. "No, this is reality and it's pretty good."

Chuckling, he leaned her back against the arm of the couch and kissed her, his arms wrapped around her waist and supporting her head. He stroked her tongue with his.

Sliding her hands up and down his back, she said, "I missed you, Gio. So much. I didn't even know how much."

"I'm here now," he said. As he was about to kiss her collarbone, Betty's cell phone rang. She reached over to the coffee table and saw that it was a 911 call from Daniel.

"I'm sorry, but I have to take it," she said, getting up. She listened to a frantic Daniel on the other line. "I'm coming, Daniel, as soon as I can." She shut her phone and looked over at Gio. "I gotta go. It's about DJ. He ran away when he overheard that Daniel isn't his father."

His face became solemn. Nodding, he said, "I'll drive you."

She pecked him quickly on the mouth. "Thanks, Gio."

They grabbed their things, leaving the sandwich order that had brought them back together sitting on the table. They were together. A team. Again. And like never before.

TBC


	3. Chapter 3

This is the final chapter, once again dedicated to Angel. I hope you like it, although it is short. It felt like the right ending.

Chapter 3

"Where would he be, Daniel?" Betty shrieked through the phone as Gio put the van in gear.

"Give me the phone," Gio said, raising his hand near her face.

She batted him away. "I'm talking to Daniel. Just drive!"

"Drive where?" he asked, furrowing his brow. "You have no idea where we're going. Give me the phone."

"Is that Gio?" Daniel asked, confused. "Let me talk to him."

Betty sputtered but handed over the phone.

Both men said hello quickly and then Gio asked, "Do you have any idea where he might be?"

"No," he said, his voice shaking. "But he's got a credit card and a decent amount of English."

Gio resisted the urge to question Daniel's decision to give a child a credit card and instead asked, "Where have you taken him? Where does he like to go?"

There was silence on the other line as Daniel thought. "Coney Island!" he finally said. "He loved when we went there last month."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah," Daniel said excitedly. "He said he'd live there if he could."

Gio nodded. "We'll meet you there. Keep trying to call his cell."

"Of course," he said. "Thanks, Gio. You and Betty are great."

Gio's eyes slid over to hers. "Yeah. We'll see you there." He shut the phone and tossed it back to her.

"Where are we going?" she asked nervously, licking her lips.

He sped up the car, honking the horn at the cars in front of them. "Coney Island."

Twenty minutes later, all three were running up and down the midway trying to find Daniel Jr. Gio held Betty's hand firmly in his but neither had the time to analyze what it meant. Betty saw him from several feet away staring at them. When their eyes connected, the boy ran the other way. "There! Daniel, I saw him!" she screamed, pointed. "He's headed towards the boardwalk."

They scurried behind him and found DJ sitting in the sand. Daniel rushed to him as Gio and Betty stood back, underneath the wooden planks. They couldn't hear the conversation, but they could see the love between Daniel and DJ.

Betty looked up at Gio. She could feel the wind blowing and it seemed as though it was pushing her to him. He was beautiful. She had never realized how much before. She wanted to touch his face so much, to iron out the stressed wrinkles on his forehead. She wanted to kiss away any fears he might have that she wouldn't be true ever again. She wanted to hold him and feel him forgive her. She wanted him to promise that he loved her.

"Gio," she said barely above a whisper, "please tell me you won't ever go away again."

Looking down at her, his face was serious and thoughtful. "That's up to you, Betty. Are you going to let me go again?"

A tear fell on her cheek. "No," she said, shaking her head. "I can't. I won't. I'm so sorry about this summer, Gio. I wish I could take it back."

"Don't cry," he whispered into her ear as he held her in his arms. "It happened. Do you want it to happen again?"

She sobbed into his shoulder. "No."

Patting her head softly, he said soothingly, "Neither do I. So we're going to have to work on it. Together." She looked up at him. He wiped away her tears with his thumbs. "We've talked about this enough today."

"Yeah," she agreed, laughing softly.

He kissed her nose with a quick peck. "Let's do something more productive. Like getting to know each other again."

She took his hand and smiled. "We're already at Coney Island. Do you want to ride some rides?"

He glanced over at Daniel and DJ, who were leaving without taking notice of Betty and Gio. Squeezing her hand, he said, "That sounds like a great idea."

She blinked as her eyes tried to readjust to the sunshine as they walked out from underneath the boardwalk. Hearing Gio's soft chuckle, she looked up. "What?"

Putting his arm around her, he said, "This is the first time since I've gotten back that I feel like I'm home."

She looked out and the people walking past them. Memories of her trip that summer flashed through her mind. She had had an amazing time, but nothing compared to the relief and delight she felt being in Gio's arms. Resting her head on his shoulder, she said, "I know what you mean."

They spent the rest of the day getting to know each other again. They spent the rest of their lives falling in love over and over again.

the end.


End file.
